Steadfast
by Silverhare
Summary: Real life isn't like a story - endings aren't set in stone, and narrative rules can be broken.


_Once upon a time, there was a loyal knight and a brave princess._

_The knight had fallen in love with the princess, but he dared not confess his feelings to her. For even though she did not speak of it, he knew that her love belonged to the prince he served, and he had no wish to come between them, because his loyalty to his liege came before the desires of his heart. So instead he watched in silence as she danced with her prince in his beautiful castle by the lake._

_One day, the princess chose to tell the prince of her love for him. But because she was bound by a terrible curse, she was instantly transformed into specks of scarlet light that glowed like flickering embers in a hearth. The knight could do nothing but watch silently as the light that had been the princess faded away, leaving behind only the beautiful necklace she had worn._

_It was not long after that that the knight met his end too. He sought to protect his prince from the monstrous raven that had been besieging the kingdom, but was unable to strike even one blow with his sword. The raven's claws tore him in two and he died in silence, with his last thoughts dwelling upon his lost princess. After his death, his body was consumed in a funeral pyre, and the prince set out to avenge his fallen friend._

_Many years passed in a distant land, and the knight found himself reborn. He lacked any memories of his former life, though the manner of his death was etched upon his body, like a ripple in a mirror. He met a princess strikingly similar to the one he had known and loved once, and despite initial resistance could not help but give his heart to her in the end. The story had decided that they were not meant to be, however, and so they seemed destined to repeat their sad fates. _

_And yet, even fate can be rewritten, if one possesses enough determination. _

***

"Wow." Ahiru looked around at the stacked boxes that were rapidly filling up Fakir's room. "I never realized you had so many things before. How'd you fit it all in here?"

"I don't know either. Karon said you never know how much you actually own until you move; I think he was right." Fakir paused what he was doing to glance over at Ahiru, who was seated cross-legged on the floor as she packed his books into a box. "Hey - take some of those out. If you make it too heavy, we won't be able to carry that. Books are heavier than you think."

"What? Oh, okay." She looked down at the box she'd been packing and realized her mistake. "Oh… yeah… I guess I was kinda thinking about something else…" She started taking some of them back out and put them on the shelf. "I think I was thinking about… how fun it'll be to unpack everything and put it where we want it in the new house."

"Fun? Unpacking?" He raised an eyebrow.

Ahiru frowned. "You don't think it will be?"

"I didn't say that." Fakir dropped a stack of clothes onto his bed for sorting and folding. "I just never thought of it as something fun to do, more like… something we have to do."

"Well, maybe you wouldn't," Ahiru conceded. "But I've never gotten to do this before. I didn't have anything at all before I moved in here, cause I was just a duck, so this is really new for me. I keep thinking about how it's all brand new and we get to decide where to put stuff and how to decorate it and everything and really make it ours." She looked up at him with shining eyes. "I can't help it, I'm just so excited, Fakir! Our own house! It's… it's really amazing."

Fakir smiled slightly. "You think so?"

"Of course!" She got up and moved to walk across the room to him, but her foot caught on the corner of a box and she tripped. The box slid away, and Ahiru stumbled forward, her arms flailing a bit, but Fakir gently caught her before she fell over. "Ah! Th-thanks." Her face flamed bright red with embarrassment. "Um, anyway, just… I just want you to know how happy I am." She slipped her arms around him and gave him a tight embrace, leaning her face into his chest. "And it's because of you."

"I - I know." Fakir stroked the top of her head. "I know you are."

"Good. And I want you to be happy too." She tilted her head back to look up at him. "You are, right?"

He nodded. "As long as you are, yes."

Ahiru brightened at that. "Good!" She leaned up and gave him a peck on the lips, and then let go of him and turned around. This time, she looked closely at the path she would have to take through the boxes and assorted items, so as not to trip again.

The box she'd tripped over caught her eye, though - it was an older one, not fresh and new like the ones they were using, and it had something written on it in Karon's handwriting, rather than hers or Fakir's. Ahiru knelt beside it, a puzzled expression on her face as she tried to decipher the messy scrawl.

"Toys?"

***

_"Twenty-three… twenty-four…" Fakir dropped the last toy soldier, the malformed one who had only a single leg to stand on, into the box. "Twenty-five." He gazed at them for a few seconds, and then closed the lid. Now he just needed to find a place to store it. He eyed the room critically, finally settling on a box of other toys that he still hadn't finished unpacking yet. He'd put it in there, and then shove the whole thing under the bed, where it would be out of the way and out of sight. He reached for the box to carry it over there, but a voice from the doorway caught his ear. _

_"Fakir." It was Mytho. "Are you going to read me the book?"_

_Fakir froze, and for a moment looked like he might cry or be sick or both, before quickly assuming a bored sneer. "No, I'm tired of that book. I'll read you something else tonight."_

_"I want to hear the part about Princess Tutu again."_

_"I said no!" His hands shook, and his fingers slipped a little as he dropped the box of soldiers in with the other toys. "I don't want to read it anymore. It's a stupid, childish book. Just go back to your room and I'll find something better." He shoved the larger box under the bed with more force than he'd intended to. "I'll be right there, so go wait for me."_

_"Okay." Mytho turned and left the room._

_As Fakir watched him go, he began to tremble again, and he hated himself for it. His hands curled into fists at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms. "It's just a book," he whispered, trying to fight off the nausea that was rising in him again. "It's just a stupid book. It's not real. Just a stupid, stupid book." He grabbed a different one off his shelf, not caring what it was, and took off in the direction of Mytho's room. "That's all it is… there's nothing to worry about…"_

_That night, for the first time since his parents died, Fakir had nightmares._

_And it would not be the last time, either._

***

"Hmmm?" Fakir glanced over at the box. "Oh, that… I found it under the bed. I was just going to throw it away."

"What? No, you can't!" Ahiru hugged it protectively. "You can't throw them away!"

"Why not?" He threw her a confused look before returning to sorting clothes. "I have no use for them. I'm long past the age of playing with toys, and so are you."

"Cause - cause that'll hurt their feelings! It'll make them sad!" Ahiru's lower lip trembled slightly. "Just like my lamp when she had the heart shard, and she was all alone in that library basement… we can't do that to your toys!"

"Ahiru, they don't have feelings anymore, and I doubt your lamp does either." Fakir tossed a folded shirt into the box he was packing. "All that ended when we stopped Drosselmeyer's story, remember? If they ever were sentient, they stopped when we ended that."

"That… that sounds like we killed them." Ahiru looked horrified. "No, I can't bear to think we did that! I think they still have feelings, even if they can't express them, and I'm not letting you hurt them by throwing them in the trash. That's too cruel!"

The look on her face was too sad, and stubborn, to argue with; Fakir knew he'd lost this one before it had even really begun. He sighed. "Fine. Keep them. I don't care."

"Thank you!" She beamed up at him. "Do you…" She twisted her hands shyly in her lap. "Do you mind if I look through them a little right now?"

"Be my guest." He closed the box, having filled it to the brim with clothing. "There's not much left to do, anyway, so go ahead and take a break."

"Okay!" She opened the box, and was greeted by a haphazard mess of playthings. She picked up the first thing she saw, a little wooden sword. "Oh… was this your first sword?"

"What? Oh… yeah." Fakir watched her give it a couple swings, smiling to herself as she did. Even after growing up, she was still small enough that the toy fit perfectly in her little hands, though it nevertheless looked odd to see her with any kind of weapon. "My father bought it for me, before I ever heard anything about actually being a knight. There should be a shield in there too somewhere."

"I think I see it." Ahiru pulled the small shield out to look at. It too was made of wood, and had some kind of messy design painted on it. "Is this the coat of arms? I can't tell what it is."

"I can't even remember what it was supposed to be." Fakir turned a little red. "I insisted on painting it myself, but… well, I was never an artist."

"That's okay, I'm not either." She set down the sword and shield and gazed down into the pile of toys. One thing she knew _wasn't_ in here was the stuffed toy duckling she'd found in his room some time ago, and she was glad of that. It had given her such happiness to know that he'd always liked ducks, and she didn't think she could bear it if it had been among the things he was willing to toss into a rubbish bin and forget about. Her eyes strayed to the box where she knew it was packed, and pursed her lips as a new thought occurred to her. "Fakir?"

"What?"

"If - if I'd been a girl back then… when you were little, I mean… do you think we would've played together?"

"If you'd lived close enough, I don't see why not." He shrugged. "I can't think of a reason why we wouldn't have."

"Well…"

***

_There she was again. _

_Fakir scowled as he spotted her, giggling with her two equally silly friends about something. Probably something involving Mytho, as all the girls in the beginner class seemed to be infatuated with him. Most were content to fawn over him from afar, which was fine, but not this girl. It seemed like he couldn't turn around these days without having her poking her nose into their business, trying to get closer to Mytho and acting like she had a right to be there. Such a nuisance. There was so much she didn't know. _

_And he wasn't about to tell her, either. She'd let slip on the night of the Fire Festival that she knew that he was missing his heart, and that was too much already. He'd suspected Rue of having told her, but Rue's reaction that night to Mytho's smile - the product of a heart shard he'd somehow regained despite being locked away - gave him enough doubt in that idea that he had yet to confront her about it. And anyway, the deed was done, it was too late to make that girl forget what she already knew. It was more important to focus on keeping her away from him as much as he could._

_If she'd just settled for admiring Mytho from a distance, that would've been fine. He could've easily ignored her the way he ignored all the other girls. But no, she was stubborn to a fault and insisted on inserting herself into their lives at every possible opportunity, despite that she didn't belong there. He hadn't known she existed before the morning he'd discovered her and Mytho in that practice room and he wished things could've gone on like that. He didn't want her near Mytho, and he didn't want her near himself either. He didn't want to get to know her or put up with her - he just wanted her to go away. He didn't hate her, but he didn't like her, either. She was just a pest to try and get rid of. She knew nothing about either of them aside from that one fact, and it was going to stay that way._

_No matter what, she was not going to get let into their lives, and that was that._

***

"Well what?" Fakir frowned down at her as she looked at a small toy ball. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, I just…" Ahiru squirmed. "You hated me at first, remember? So I thought… I thought… if you'd known me when you were little, you would've felt the same way."

"I never hated you." It was Fakir's turn to look uncomfortable. "I wouldn't say I liked you, because I had to… I needed to learn to be less stupid. Which you taught me." He coughed. "But I never hated you. I just didn't want anything to do with you at all because… well, you know." He sighed. "You remember all of that, I don't need to explain it to you."

"I - I know!" Ahiru waved her hands frantically. "I'm - I'm not saying that - that I - I don't hold it against you anymore, I haven't for a long time, you know that, just… I thought it meant that if you'd known me back then you wouldn't have liked me, maybe."

"I was different back then, though. Before… things happened." He shifted a bit. "I think if we'd known each other as children, we would've been friends. I would've liked you a lot."

"You really think so?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"W-well, um, I - I…" Ahiru blushed nearly as brilliantly as her hair. "I don't know…" She dropped her gaze to the box of toys again, and busied herself with attempting to sift through a pile of animal figures and a yo-yo with a tangled string. She lifted up a little horse figure and sighed. "I kinda… I kinda think I missed out a bit… not that I mind having been a duck, but I never got to play with toys or anything when I was little."

"You're still little."

She threw the ball at him, but it missed, and he laughed. She glowered at him. "You know what I mean, Fakir. I didn't have a childhood like you did… I didn't have toys or even friends to play with. I was all alone, and then… well, I couldn't really do that with anyone at the Academy, cause we were all too old for that. I've never known what it's like." She turned an imploring gaze on him. "What is it like?"

"It wasn't much fun with Mytho." Fakir brushed some stray hairs out of his eyes. "He wasn't good at understanding some things, and so he'd either get hurt by accident from that, or he'd get distracted by some small animal he wanted to save, or he'd just get lost while wandering off, and so I eventually stopped trying to do stuff like that with him."

"What about before Mytho, then?" Ahiru asked. "You must've had friends before he came along, right?"

"… A few." His gaze dropped, and the look she saw in his eyes made her keenly regret ever asking. "They all… stopped coming around after my parents died, though. They didn't want anything to do with me." He swallowed. "They thought I was cursed or something, because…"

"Oh, Fakir…" Ahiru's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry I asked! That's… that's awful!"

"It's - it's not as bad as you think." He shook his head. "They were perfectly fine with asking me to write stuff for them before that happened. It hurt, at first, when they turned on me, but I eventually realized I was better off without them. They would've just tried to take advantage of Mytho in his heartless state, like that anteater girl."

"Aw, don't… it wasn't really her fault, she had one of his shards attached to her." Ahiru wiped at her eyes. "I felt sorry for her. She and I weren't that different, really - she was trying so hard to be like someone else, someone she wasn't. Just like I thought Princess Tutu was better than me."

"I know that. I don't hold her entirely responsible either." Fakir shrugged. "But I knew that there were people who'd try to use him somehow, and I figured I was better off not letting him really interact with people because of that. I tolerated Rue because she didn't want him to get his heart back either, but other than that… I was pretty determined to take care of him all by myself, because I didn't really trust anyone else. It wasn't the only reason, but it definitely helped convince me that I was better off alone, and that I couldn't afford to ask anyone for help."

***

_He knew, deep down, that he wasn't really in any sort of condition to make it back to his room alone. He was dizzy, and weak, and in no small amount of pain. Some of his wounds hadn't even stopped bleeding yet, and the blood trickling out of the gashes inflicted by the crows Kraehe had sent after him was an unpleasantly warm contrast to the chilly post-rain air. He tried to will himself to believe that the shakiness he was feeling was only because of that - the cold dampness and the blood loss - and that none of it was because of any lingering aftereffects of the pure terror the attacks had brought on. The alternative was too shameful to think of._

_No, if he was honest with himself, he would admit that he really did need her help to get back to the dorms._

_But that didn't mean he was going to accept it so easily._

_"Let go of me. I can walk by myself," Fakir protested, hating how weakened his voice sounded. He tried to shake off her grip, but Ahiru was surprisingly strong when transformed into Tutu, and maintained her hold on him._

_"No." Her voice was gentle, but firm. Even besides her own awareness of his inability to make it home on his own, she knew full well that he'd been doing things all by himself for far too long, if what she'd seen the other night was any indication. Whatever he said about not trusting her, and despite all that had passed between them up to this point, she was not going to let him hurt himself further by trying to do things alone. "Besides, we're almost there."_

_He mumbled something else, but she couldn't understand him, and later he wouldn't even remember what he had said. The rest of the trip back to his room passed in a daze, and he was asleep mere moments after his head made contact with the pillow._

_When he woke up hours later, his wounds were bandaged up and she was still there, still wearing her disguise as Princess Tutu. He was still sore where the crows had pecked and slashed at him, but he felt strong enough to go searching for Mytho, and even if he didn't, there was little choice in the matter. He had to be found before Kraehe did something terrible._

_To his surprise, Ahiru had not yet given up on working with him. He didn't think he needed her help, and part of him was still reluctant to trust her completely, even if she had set aside their past to help him up here and dress his wounds. But she had a point, and so he relented._

_It would only be for a little while, though, and it didn't really mean anything._

***

"I don't blame you for not trusting me at first." Ahiru carefully pushed some toys aside to see what was underneath them. "If I look at it from your point of view, I guess I was pretty suspicious and weird. I kinda just came out of nowhere and acted like I knew everything."

"You thought you did. And that was Drosselmeyer's fault, not yours," Fakir pointed out. "I didn't exactly help by refusing to tell you anything, either."

"Yeah, but - you had your reasons not to." She moved a few more, and then her eyes lit up. "Ooh, there's a little castle in here!" She lifted it up and held it up to the light. "It's so pretty!"

"I remember that." Fakir watched her inspect the little windows and towers. "I haven't thought about that thing in years."

"I like it. Ooh, what's this?" Ahiru noticed the small box nestled atop the pile of toys, just to the right of where the castle had been. She took it out and set it on her lap, and then lifted the lid up. "Oh… it's some toy soldiers." She lifted up the one-legged one. "This one looks like he got hurt."

"I remember those, too." Fakir came around the box to sit beside her. "I don't think that one was supposed to be there - I think he was a factory reject that somehow ended up packed in by mistake."

"Awww, that's not a nice thing to say." She set him carefully aside. "I think it just makes him unique, he stands out."

"A bit unneeded, though." He stared down at the twenty-four whole soldiers. "I know what that's like."

"No, you don't." Ahiru laid her hand on his cheek. "You only know what it feels like to _think_ you're not needed. You've always been needed, though, whether it was by Mytho, or the story, or me. Even when you didn't know it, or you thought you weren't."

He took her hand and softly kissed her palm, his eyes saying all the words he wanted to but couldn't quite find at the moment. "There's something else in there with these, that I think you'll like. If I'm remembering correctly."

"Really?" She squeezed his hand before letting go so that she could look through the box of soldiers. She was soon rewarded by a glimpse of something pink. "Oh!" She carefully dug it out, and it turned out to be a figure of a red-haired ballerina in a pink tutu, one leg stretched behind her in an arabesque. "A little ballerina… but what's she doing in here?"

"She was Raetsel's." Fakir watched Ahiru turn the ballerina around to closely inspect all sides of her. "She had no more use for her, so she gave her to me because she thought the castle needed a princess."

"She's pretty." Ahiru smiled down at her. "She kinda looks like Princess Tutu."

"You think so?" Fakir took Ahiru's hand again so that he could get a closer look at the ballerina himself. "I was going to say she reminds me of you. Look -" He pointed at the figure's small face. "She even has your freckles."

"What?" Ahiru peered at the figure. "No, she doesn't, those are just… spots from getting dirty or something."

"Even if you're right, who says you can't pretend?" He let go of her hand and picked up one of the other toy soldiers. "That's what these kinds of toys are for - using your imagination. When I played with them, they acted out all kinds of stories I came up with in my head."

"Really? Like what?"

"I don't remember all of them. It was too long ago." He glanced over at where the one-legged soldier sat in Ahiru's lap. "Although, that one and the ballerina remind me of a fairy tale I once read. About a tin soldier who loved a paper ballerina."

"I don't think I've read that one. Will you tell it to me?" Ahiru scooted closer so she could lean her head against Fakir. "Did they live happily ever after?"

"That's getting far ahead of the story." Fakir set down the soldier he'd been holding. "He was part of a set of twenty-five, given as a birthday gift, and he had only one leg because there hadn't been enough tin. He saw the ballerina standing on one leg at the entrance of a a toy castle, and believed her to be like him, which made him think that she was perfect for him. He wanted to get to know her, so he hid where he could see her in her castle, and when night came he was not returned to the box with the other tin soldiers. The other toys began to play games amongst themselves when the lights were turned off, but the soldier and the ballerina remained still in their places. He watched her all through the night, until midnight came. When the clock struck twelve, a goblin came out of a small puzzle box on the table."

"How scary!" Ahiru shuddered and closed her eyes. She could easily picture the goblin in her mind, and his face bore a strong resemblance to Drosselmeyer's.

"The goblin told the tin soldier that he shouldn't wish for what he couldn't have, but the soldier pretended not to hear. In the morning, the children placed him by the window, and by some power of the goblin the window opened, and the soldier fell out. One of the children and a servant went outside to look for him, but he was too proud to call out to them for help, and so they didn't find him."

"How silly of him." Ahiru nuzzled her head against his arm a little.

"Yeah, it was." Fakir smiled down at her. "So because he was so foolishly prideful, he laid there all through a terrible rainstorm, and afterwards was found by two boys who made a paper boat to set him in, and they sent him down the river. It was a harrowing journey, for the water was high after the storm, but he stood strong and upright. The boat soon enough went under a bridge, however, and it was darker there than it had been in his box, and he thought to himself that he would not fear it if only the ballerina were there with him."

***

_"Now we are two", the wall had said, the one where Edel had put the gem that revealed the hidden entrance. It hadn't made much sense at the time - or so he'd led himself to believe - but now he thought he understood. He'd resisted cooperating with her all the way, his repeated statements that he wasn't doing exactly that gradually becoming more and more of an effort to convince himself, rather than one to convince her. But by the time he'd fallen over a cliff in an attempt to save her, even he wasn't convinced anymore._

_Now they were two. Like it or not, they were a team, at least for now. They could do this much together, regardless of what awaited them at the end of this harrowing journey through the caves. He liked to think it wouldn't have been so bad alone, but in a secret place in his heart, he had to admit, for a brief moment, that it was better with her there. _

_He could trust her. He knew that now. She'd seen him at his lowest and chosen to believe in him anyway, even after all the terrible things he'd said and done to her, so the very least he could do was extend her his trust in return. He took her outstretched hand, and let her pull him into the water, and followed her lead without resistance as they swam through the darkness of the submerged tunnel together. _

_It couldn't last, of course, because he doubted he would last beyond whatever would happen when they made it to where Kraehe was waiting. But for now, it was more of a relief than he'd expected to not be going into this alone._

***

"What happened next?"

"He met a water rat, who lived in the drain." Fakir slipped his arm around Ahiru. "He asked him for his passport, but he had none, so the rat followed him as he sailed onwards, and cried out and gnashed his teeth, ordering anything in the water to impede him. The paper boat bearing the tin soldier sailed away swiftly, however, until it plunged into a large canal over a steep place. It wasn't much different than it would be if we were in a boat that fell over a waterfall. The boat whirled round and round in the current, and became too wet to sail any longer, and the soldier began to sink down, down into the waters. As they closed over his head, he thought one last time of the paper ballerina, and he wished he could have seen her again."

"Oh no, that's terrible!" Ahiru opened her eyes and looked up at him almost accusingly. "Why'd you tell me such a sad story? That sounds like something Drosselmeyer would write!"

"I'm not done yet." Fakir laughed and ruffled her cowlick. "Just be patient and listen." She wasn't entirely wrong, he knew that, but still - the story wasn't quite over yet. "You have to wait until I tell you it's done."

"Fine." She settled back down against him. "So did he get to see her again somehow?"

"Just wait." Fakir laughed again. "After he sank into the water, the tin soldier was swallowed up by a fish. By chance or coincidence or fate, the fish was caught, and sold at the market to the very family that had owned the soldier. When the fish was cut open by the cook, he was then found, and removed, and taken up to the playroom where his story had begun. He saw there the same children, and all the same toys, his fellow soldiers, and of course the castle with the ballerina."

"Oh good, he did see her again!" Ahiru sighed. "I bet he was happy to see her."

"He was. So happy, in fact, that he very nearly wept with joy at the sight of her, but he held back, because he felt that such things were unbecoming to a soldier."

"That was silly too."

***

_It was over. Perhaps not completely, but the Raven was defeated, his spell over the people of Gold Crown broken, and the danger was past. He didn't need to fear what would happen if he ran out there now._

_So he ran. He was exhausted in both mind and body, from a long and sleepless night spent using his frail power to its fullest to try and write this tale a happy ending, to keep her safe. He ran to her, heedless of his own wearied state and the confused people around him. He ran as fast as he could, because there was still one uncertainty, one more thing to fear that terrified him more than any raven could, more than the old man lying unconscious in the house he'd just fled._

_The sight of her battered, limp body lying on the cobblestones was almost more than he could bear. But she was warm yet, and when he lifted her gently in his hands, he could feel her little heart, still beating steadily away. And she opened her eyes, and she looked up at him, with an expression in their blue depths that seemed to say "It's all right. We survived. It's going to be okay." He could not find the words to say in reply, but he smiled down at her, and did not try to fight back the tears of sheer relief and joy that she was alive, that he had not lost her. His hand was throbbing anew, with fresh blood soaking the bandages, the wound having been reopened by the last bits of writing he had just done for her, but he didn't care. She was alive, and they were together, and that was the most important thing in the world to him._

***

"Mmmm." He kissed the top of her head. "I think so too."

"I'm happy he got to see her again, though, even if he was being silly and prideful about it." Ahiru smiled. "Did they get to be together, finally, at least?"

Fakir hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm afraid not. All he did was look at her, and she looked back at him; in fact, the story doesn't even say if she felt the same way that he did. We don't get a look into her heart the way we do with him. It's entirely possible that she felt nothing for him."

"But - but she might have loved him, too!" Ahiru sounded upset. "She should've said something!"

"Unfortunately, neither of them did. Whatever her true feelings were, she did not speak of them, and neither did he. Because they both remained silent, nothing happened between them. In the end, they remained inanimate objects, and that was their downfall."

***

_"Will - will you say it again?" Ahiru gazed up at him with a shy look on her face, her hand resting on his cheek. "It still kinda feels unreal…"_

_Fakir nodded. He knew exactly how she felt. "I love you." His voice was soft and quiet, but no less full of the powerful emotion expressed in those three words. He watched joy flare up again in Ahiru's eyes, and felt it course through him as well at the sight of her happiness._

_"I love you too." Her smile had never been more radiant, it seemed like. "I - I really, really do. It took me a while to get it, that that's how I feel about you, but… but once I knew I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I was afraid you didn't feel the same way, so… so I'm really relieved you do!"_

_There were so many things he could've said to that, but he decided to save them for later, and chose instead to communicate without words, at least for now. So he pulled her close and kissed her._

"Their downfall? What do you mean by that? Did something bad happen?"

"Yes. I'm sorry." Fakir gave her a little squeeze. "As they stared silently at one another, one of the children, perhaps because of the influence of the goblin, picked up the tin soldier and threw him into the fireplace."

"No!" Ahiru pressed a hand to her mouth in horror.

"As he laid there in the flames, he still said nothing, but stared at the ballerina, and she back at him, until a draft caught her and tossed her into the fire beside the soldier. She burned up almost instantly, leaving behind only the tinsel rose she wore. As for the soldier, he melted down into a lump of tin, that was shaped like a heart when it was found by a maid the next morning."

"That's terrible!" Ahiru twisted around in his hold to look up at him. "It really was a sad story! I can't believe someone wrote that… that's as bad as Drosselmeyer!"

"It didn't surprise me at all that it ended that way, actually." Fakir shrugged. "It's hardly the only story out there like that, with a soldier - or a knight usually, really - falling for a princess. They all tended to end tragically, more often than not. The message seemed to be that knights and princesses weren't supposed to be together."

"Oh, but - but then, how do you explain us?" Ahiru poked him. "Because that's who we were, for a while."

"But it was never who we really are." Fakir shook his head. "I'm no knight… I don't think I was ever supposed to be, not really. And you stopped being a princess, and went back to being a duck. We gave up those roles and ended Drosselmeyer's story, so that rule doesn't apply to us, if it ever did. We defied that fate."

"That's true." Ahiru looked down at the ballerina figure in her hand, and the one-legged soldier, and something seemed to click in her mind. "Fakir?"

"Hmmm?"

"I have an idea." She held up the two toys. "Let's put them on a shelf together, at our new house. Let's give their story a happy ending, like we got."

Fakir smiled. "Yeah… I like that idea."

_Once upon a time, there was a writer and a duck._

_They lived their lives within a story, and the writer of that story had decided that they were his puppets, to be used and discarded according to his cruel whims. For it was that he preferred tragedy over all else, and sought to inflict the same unkind fates on them that their counterparts in another tale had suffered. _

_But the writer and the duck decided differently, that they were not dolls to be played with by a heartless puppetmaster. They did not remain still, but instead moved according to their own wishes. And so it was that through their determination and hope they were able to avert their sad destinies, and write their own endings._

_In time, they chose also to break their silence and speak of the desires of their hearts, and thus were once again able to create happy new chapters in their stories. Love and joy were, therefore, to remain forever in their lives, for as long as they lived._


End file.
